Resurrection
by Daitsuke-kun
Summary: Son of the ones who were sworn to protect the world from biohazards was the one who lead Earth to it's destruction, and to the new era. The era where he completed dreams of a madman, but his own way. The way of resurrection.


_Title: Resurrection  
Rating: T  
Genre: Drama/Fantasy/Mystery  
Disclaimer: Guess what, I don't own Resident Evil. And I'm glad that I don't 'cause if I did it wouldn't be so awesome  
Summary: Son of the ones who were sworn to protect world from bio hazards was the one who lead Earth to it's destruction, and to the new era. The era where he completed dreams of a madman, but his own way. The way of resurrection.  
_

* * *

_**Resurrection  


* * *

**_After Kijuju, they both thought the nightmare was over. Wesker was finally dead, they saw it with their own eyes. Struggling for his mere survival in the burning lava when they finished him off with two shots from the RPG's right in his face.

They saw him die. They saw that there was no trace of Wesker left. They killed him.

The nightmare was over. The world was saved.

* * *

After the whole incident, after Chris got Jill back to him, both realized nothing was holding them back now. No outbreaks, no viruses, no Wesker to haunt down. Just them, their friends - mostly survivors, people who suffered because of Umbrella just like them. Also a few colleagues from B.S.A.A. and that was all.

Finally, peace came, and the world didn't even notice that a madman was about to build a new balance through six billions cries of agony.

They were like shadows, invisibly holding the world at peace, simply allowing normal people live, breathe, love, hate - on their own will, and die because they were ought to, not because HE made them.

Were they normal? What a difficult question. Maube they were, but they didn't know exactly how to live without danger behind their backs. How to live normally, peacefully. Playing with death was their every day business for ten years straight - and changing that now was hard, oh so hard.

But when the nightmares finally died, or at least visited not so often, they realized. Realized that they were normal people too. Without Wesker, breathing on their necks, without Umbrella, Tricell, without biohazards...

Of course, the world wasn't heaven. Far from it. Crimes were still done, people were still getting killed, wars still occured. But it was kind of normal, it wasn't their business now, and they didn't care how selfish it sounded. The world was free from biohazards for now, at least, and they were the ones who made sure of it with their own hands, covered in blood of thousands innocent people, who fell victims to the virus.

Uroborous. T-ALOS. T-Virus, G-Virus - it didn't matter. If the danger would occure again, they'll destroy it. Personally. It was their job after all and they were willing to eliminate such threats.

Luckily, no such threats occured since that last incident with Tricell. Maybe there were no such companies left. Maybe after Tricell was destroyed, they all hid well. Who knew.

* * *

They didn't get together at once, of course.

At first, Claire laughed when her big brother - literally, a bodybuilder look-like if you judged by his appearance - nearly blushed when Claire urged him to tell Jill how he felt. _Ten years straight you were only partners, you know each other inside and out, you're perfect for each other!_. It really was strange why they didn't get together, at least in Claire's eyes. She knew her brother liked Jill since S.T.A.R.S. and started seriously falling for her during and after the mansion incident. His feelings for her only increased while they were working together. And how couldn't they? She was a perfect woman in his opinion.

They loved each other, alright. But both were too dumb (in Claire's opinion) to realise that.

When he still couldn't tell her, it started to annoy Claire. And it wasn't amusing in the least - her brother could easily handle a huge crowd of rotting zombies, could blast a licker's head off without even blinking, could fire a gun with closed eyes, was a master at the CQC technique... The list was probably endless, but handling a woman was beyond his field of experience.

When he still couldn't tell her, Claire became really angry. Everybody knew besides these two, and that pissed Claire off. Clearly, the two needed just a push in the needed direction...

But all hell broke lose after the Spencer Estate incident. He still didn't tell her, and it was too late. When he came home, he looked like a zombie. Of course, not physically - outside he still looked like the old Christopher Redfield, her older brother, but his eyes were dead.

Since that fatefull night Claire was afraid looking at him. He moved, talked, ate, slept - but that wasn't Chris. It was just a body of Chris Redfield.

She suspected her brother was really thrown right out of the same window as Jill and Wesker.

Since the incident, he never smiled again - never laughed again, mind you.

* * *

After the Kijuju incident, when she met him again, she felt like she met an entirely different - but the same - person. Her Chris. Old Chris was back.

Despite his changed appearance and gray hairs she had a feeling that the "S.T.A.R.S. Chris" was back.

And Claire ws happy. She was so happy, especially when she realised he brought her back. When she saw her with her own eyes.

"_If you won't tell her I'll kill you_" - Claire said then, looking directly at her brother who was starting to get nervous. Zombies were fine, but angry Claire was worse than any biohazard.

"_Tell me what_?" - Jill asked then, fixing her blond ponytail, glancing at Chris worriedly.

"_And you!_ - Claire pointed at her. - _Don't try to look like you don't understand._" - after she said that, she flew out of the room, closing the door with such force it nearly broke. Jill was left standing with her mouth wide opened.

That was when Chris slowly approached her, and this was the start of an entirely different relationship.

* * *

And two years after this fateful talk, a child was born.

Ironically the kid resembled HIM in so many ways.

* * *

He was always so quiet - never caused problems, never cried, never did something wrong. He learned to write and read early - and they noticed something when he turned six.

Their son reminded them of HIM - in his early years, possibly, though they'd never seem HIS childhood photographs. Blond hair (it was strange, considering both parents were naturally brunettes), sharp features, crystal blue eyes. A calm, collected boy, confident, and nobody really knew what was there on that mind of his.

They realized he was beginning to be even more like HIM when he went to school. He never had friends - he just manipulated his classmates to get what he wanted. He was a brilliant student - his grades were always excellent or at least good.

When Jill saw that there were a lot of books about biology and chemistry in his room, she got suspicious... Especially since her son was a secretive one and she knew nothing important about him, really.

* * *

_"What ice-cream do you want, honey?"_

_"I don't care" - the boy said, his expression bored. _

_"Come on, tell me!" - Jill laughed as she picked up her son, expecting him to laugh too. But he didn't; he just gave her an annoyed look. _

_"Mom, put me down" - he didn't ask. He ordered her. _

_"That's no way to talk to your mother!" - Jill scolded but put him down. _

_"Why can't you be like any normal kid..." - Chris sighted in defeat, licking his vanilla ice-cream thoughtfully. His son looked at him, and for a moment his expression reminded Chris of HIM. _

_"Maybe that's because I'm not an ordinary child" - his son said quietly and after these words he didn't pay much attention not to Jill, not to Chris. _

* * *

Jill didn't know how he became like that. They loved him, they never yelled at him, but he often behaved as if they were nothing. _Weaklings_, an annoying voice, HIS voice sometimes whispered in her head when she was lying awake at night, thinking about everything and her son.

What bothered her sometimes was his skin - albino white. Just like HIS, she remembered. Sun didn't leave any marks on it, and he didn't like to expose much of it.

His favorite colour was black. When they tried to buy him something lighter once, he simply did't wear it. The pieces of clothing were thrown in his wardrobe and then were gone - presumably to a dump.

It was useless to get offended with him - he always looked at them with such expression that made both shiver.

He hid his emotions well. Usually, his face wore a bored expression, or a stoned one. He rarely laughed, or smiled for that instant - and when he did, it meant nothing good.

As years flew by, they grew more and more aware of their son becoming just like HIM. And what scared them most was their total helplessness.

* * *

After he graduated, he said he was offered a place at a prestigious university. Not even in one - there were three of them who were interested in their son.

When he picked the one with the military basis (or so they were told), it was a relief for both parents. Maybe he predicted their reaction if he picked the one where chemistry and biology were the leading subjects... After all, he could read people without any difficulties.

His grades that were sent to them by the university were as excellent as at school. Of course, it made Chris and Jill proud, but again, suspicious. His records said that he was a genius in science, did well in martial arts, in combat was perfect and was one of the top students of the university.

After he graduated from university (being on top of his class, of course), he sent them a letter that he was offered a good job. He didn't say what the job was, though. When they sent him a letter in response, asking that, no answer came.

Their son just dissapeared.

* * *

They tried searching for him, being good parents as they were. In university, however, they knew exactly what Jill and Chris already did, nothing more.

_"He wasn't a talkative person, his classmates were quiet afraid of him, to tell the truth. - _the headmaster, a plump smiley man with light British accent in his late fifties told them_. - You know, he was an excellent student, and that was enough for us. We didn't dig deeper than it was needed to. But you know what? No other student in the whole university was better than him. A human with such intelligence is very rare. The only one who was just like your son graduated a long time ago - and he was the main pride of our university too, but, unfortunately, he chose a bad path. They even look alike. I don't remember him - I wasn't a headmaster back then, but we have portraits of all our best students in the hall. Let me show you." _

He talked, practically bubbling with excitement, showing them the portraits of the best students his university ever had.

_"Oh, here's John Malkins - he became the minister of culture. He was such a nice boy, always so cheerful and all... That's Melanie Gerald - she worked with CIA if I remember well, was responsible for talking with terrorists. Douglas Downy - he was believed to be the son of the famous opera singer and he became the director of the bank... Oh, and here he is - he graduated something about forty years ago or so... Doesn't he look like your sun, really?.." _

Jill and Chris both froze instantly.

He looked so young on the photograph - his face emotionless - so unsmiling as ever, but even at that age, he was fairly recognizable. He was just like alive, just like ten years ago before the Kijuju incident - only without the sunglasses and with less wrinkles.

And the name below only confirmed everything.

**"Albert Wesker"**

And the picture of their son was hanging right next to him, and really, there were practically no differences. _  
_

_"I decided to put them together, since they look so alike, I thought it would be fun!_" - the headmaster said, laughing.

Their hearts sank as they left the place, saying quiet goodbyes.

_

* * *

_After that they deleted their searching. It seemed as if their son just vanished from the face of the earth. They learned how to cope with it, pretending they never even had a child.

Looking at his early childhood photographs, Jill often thought what went wrong. She never really thought... Never really thought that he could turn out like HIM. They thought the nightmare was over... But in fact it was the second part of it.

_So I guess HE couldn't just leave us alone, not presenting us any... Surprises. But on the other hand, that **was** Wesker.  


* * *

"According to my resources you dealed with biohazards when you were young, as I correct?" - _Their son, now a boy of 17 years old asked them.

_"And now we're what, old?" - _Chris scratched the back of his neck uneasily, trying to turn his words into a joke. But the way his son glanced at him made the older Redfield shiver unconsciously. It reminded of HIM so much... _Where did he learn to have this look anyway?.._

And his son't appearance didn't help his image - black sweater, black jeans, thin glasses that covered his blue eyes that sometimes turned grey and even green, blond hair. Chris could say it in front of the God, the younger version of his (fortunately) now dead S.T.A.R.S. ex-captain was standing before him.

_"I wonder who provides you such information..."_ - Jill laughed nervously.

_"I have my resources. - _their son said unemotionally._ - However, I intend on knowing the whole background story. Your first biohazard experience, all your wins and looses. Don't try hide anything from me. I can easily tell when you're lying, Chris. And you, Jill, too." _- the tone of his voice and his manners of saying their names only made HIS picture appear more clearly in their minds.

Both parents glanced at each other, shivering. Their son stopped calling them "mom" and "dad" when he turned eight.

Chris sighted.

_"How much do you already know?"  
_

A ghost of a smile touched his son's lips.

_"I see you're not underestimating me. Well, let me think... I know that the whole mess about 20 yeas ago was connected with the famous pharmaceutical company known as "The Umbrella Corporation". And I believe one of the main characters behind the scenes was a secret agent of theirs, Albert Wesker. Umbrella was illegally doing a viral research, with the helping hand of Oswell E. Spencer, the original founder of the corporation along with the Ashfords... And they needed someone to cover their dirty business, so S.T.A.R.S. - an elte police forces group whose responsibility was handling difficult unordinary cases - wouldn't find the truth about Umbrella. You were the members of S.T.A.R.S. back then, in Raccoon city, am I correct? The Alpha team. However, an incident in the Arklay mountains - when hikers started to dissapear and violent murders occured near the Raccoon city forest - was the start of it all. I need to know what happened next. I need the whole story."_

_"I don't really think that's the time..." - _Jill tried to protest but her son waved his hand in the air in a stopping gesture, shutting her instantly. _  
_

_"Now."_

It was nothing but an order.

_"Well... I guess he has the rights to know the truth..." - _Chris turned to Jill uneasily.

Her brows were set, her mouth a thin line. As a mother, she sensed something was not quite right.

_"It's alright if he wants to know it, it's not that what I'm concerned about."_

Their son bent his head, hiding a thin smile that claimed his lips. They couldn't see that it resembled more of a grin, and not an entirely innocent one. His eyes were hidden from the direct view because of the way the sun reflected on his glasses, but if you looked closely, they resembled eyes of a man, who was about to be overcome by lust of power and madness.

_"Oh, I just want to know, no reason why, really."  
_

They didn't notice anything all, and that was their huge mistake that inevitably led them to their downfall since that day.

Their second mistake was giving in and telling him the whole story.

Their third mistake - and maybe the biggest one - was telling him a little too much about Albert Wesker. _  


* * *

_

He listened with interest, occasionally stroking his chin thoughtfully, as Chris and Jill told him never lifted his eyes to look at them, nver made a comment or a sound and that made Chris wonder if he was really listening. But something urged him to continue, something urged him to tell the information only the true survivors of the outbreak 20 years ago knew.

Jill sensed that he listened carefully, remembered their every word, gained something from every sentence they said.

She didn't understand his motives. She couldn't help noticing he was mostly interested in the part where Chris was describing Umbrella's horrible expirements they were "lucky" to deal with, when she was telling about project Nemesis that nearly killed her and was the death of most members of the U.B.C.S., when they told about the T-ALOS project in Russia, when Chris told him about the Las Plagas and the details of the Xavier mission Leon enlightened him on, when the older Redfield described his own "adventure" in Kijuju...

The only comment their son made was a quiet "_hmph_" when Chris was telling about the abilities of Majini, and a short mumble "_So he made them better, huh?_", that was apparently about the poor African victims of Uroborius for whom, as it was obvious, he had no pity.

When the story finally ended, it was evening already, and the moon curiously peeked through the curtains of the living room.

_"Oh, so I see. - _He stood up, smiling a bit. - _So he tried spreading the Uroborous throughout the whole world with rockets. How foolish of him. If I was in his place, I'd pick an entirely different way" _

_And that, for example, would be?.._ - Jill stiffened.

_"Don't you think spreading the virus with the help of the modern spaceship would be more entertaining?_ - Their son said, a smile never leaving his face. - _He chose the wrong strategy and lost against Chris, despite being, what it's called, a superhuman. With the virus, running in his veins, he indeed could become a God. But, he lost, and that's the fate of all bad guys, don't you agree?.. Quiet cliche if you ask me. I think he also had somewhat of a psychological disorder. That want of his to become a God... Pathetic." _

_"He'd kill you if he'd heard that." - Chris chuckled, yawning. _

_"Maybe. - _Their son went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea_. - But he's dead. And by the way, he lost because he got old, and his hormones (as he was getting older, his organism was inevitably changing, of course) got the best of him. Hormones and the virus - what a mix! At the end, when he understood he was loosing to Chris, he got desperate, and animal rage simply overtook him." _

A deep chuckle could be heard from the kitchen.

_"If you ask me, evil has to have calmness inside and a pretty face outside. Surrendering to animal desires is foolish." - _He sipped his tea, humming something under his breath. What suddenly stroked Jill was that _how_ he looked.

_Calmness inside and a pretty face outside... _

That talk happened two days before he'd gone to the university and they had never seen him again in person since then. _  


* * *

_

Three years after he vanished, something happened.

_A special news report. Some unknown disease overtook Siberia. It's spreading pretty fast and the ways of dealing with it are unknown. The symptoms are unknown, but supposedly before illness overtakes a person, he has headaches and a high fever. The Russian government is desperate and asking all the countries in the world for help as the disease slowly continues to spread to the more populated areas of Russian Federation. Stay put with the CNN channel. And now to the recent sports news..._

Chris's face paled as he stared into the television, his eyes unmoving, set on the glowing screen in fron of him. A bowl of ramen in his hands fell to the floor, getting the carpet dirty, but Chris didn't even care.

_It has begun..._ - he mumbled in horror. - _It has begun._

**A special news report, the decease overtook the eastern coast of Alyaska... **

**...It's spreading slowly in the direction of China, Africa, Australia... **

**...The British government is desperate, Russian government isn't responding...**

**...Overtook South America...**

**...It's slowly getting to North America. We don't know what to do...**

**...Its spreading and we can't stop it...  
**

_..__.This is the end.  


* * *

_

And one day, the television didn't respond - all the channels were empty. And one day, there was no one left to turn on the television. And one day, there was no one left to fight.

And one day, Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine put themselves out of their misery when the realization came to them - realization, that they were the carriers of the disease.

_It's no disease, Jill, It's a virus, I know it. And I know who is responsible for it. _

_I know too, sadly. _

_It was HIS revenge. They knew, that by the hands of our son... It would be more painful. It would hurt more. So much more.  
_

* * *

In the space, a lone ship was floating like a lost little world.

A young man at the age of 24 wearing a black sweater and thin sunglasses was looking through the glass down on the planet, that was once his home. In his slender fingers there was a flower, a single lotus flower with uncharacteristically white leaves. Man's grey-blue eyes were settled on the slowly dying planet, and specks of a warmly glowing sun were mirroring in his orbs, making him look peaceful and harmless.

It seemed that he couldn't care less for the planet that was his birthplace. To say even more, he was even responsible for it's tragic fate.

_"And to think that I won instead of you, Wesker, to think, that you lost - how is that? How is that to think that your archenemies son won, and not you?.. Painfulm isn't it? However, you can still enjoy the view I so generously allow you to watch."_

A young man touched a little blue button near the railing, and a huge screen came to llife - a screen, showing an old man lying in a bed, all wrapped in bandages, only his fierce red eyes showing. The figure reminded a mummy from horror films more than something human; you could see intensity in his gaze, intensity and hatred.

_"And to think you've survived after the whole volcano incidnt, and somehow managed to live on... Every day brought you pain as the virus slowly was dissapearing from your veins, but you loved with it, didn't you?.. It was all because of the Organization, am I not right? They thought you still could serve some purpose to them, so they extracted your charred corpse from that volcano. You were barely alive, crippled so badly you were hardly recognizable. They revived you, they decided you had to live, though why? The answer is simple: they wanted a pure sample of your unique virus out of your body, and after they got it, they were going to do what? That's right, dispose of you. So, you've got to thank me, because it was I who saved you, it was I who brought you here, and it is me who is letting you watch your dream come true... By the hands of your nemesis's son. Isn't that ironic?_ - A young man chuckled coolly, pushing some other button so the screen would get closer to the window. -_ How was that you said?.. Six billions cries of agony shall birth a new balance? Well, here it is. Your perfect new balance. Only the roles are a little reversed. I think our situation reminds me of something... Oh yes, the Spencer Estate incident. Only you were powerful then, and Spencer was a weak old man in a wheelchair. Isn't it funny that it seems that you're now taking his place?.._

Another chuckle escaped the young man's lips, and hatred in the eyes of a bandaged man only seemed to intensify.

_"However, my purpose of saving you wasn't one sided, you know. Not only I wanted your virus, I wanted your presence when I would be taking a God's place. Well, how it is to realize, that the dream f your whole life, your goal is finally reached, but, - sadly, isn't it? - Not by you. And to think you got outshined by a simple man with no virus in his veins... Maddening, right?.._

Wesker continued glaring at him. He wasn't capable of talking, but he could see and understand everything perfectly.

The young man sighted, his hand stretching to push the third button, but he hesitated, turning his attention to the screen fully. His hand gently traveled to the collar of his sweater, his long fingers playing with the warm material.

_"Let me just say thank you before we say goodbye though. I believe I shall be grateful. If not your research data, if not old Umbrella and Tricell data, even if not your existence - I'm not so sure I've turned out as I am now. You helped me a lot. If not for you, I wouldn't have been able to bring the Organization down. And they were greatly messing my plans. But thanks to you, the world is on the brink of a rebirth, and you are on a verge of dying. Fare thee well, Albert Wesker, and if for ever, still for ever, far thee well. Goodbye the man, who wanted to become a God. Goodbye the man who failed." _

And with these final words, the young man pushed the button.

The bandaged man jerked, his red eyes widening, and then stiffened, his eyelids closing. How fragile the tyrants life now was, indeed. Some years ago, even a volceno and two RPG's in the face couldn't end it properly, and a little button turned out so tragic just now.

The sun dissapeared and a moon shown herself in the space blackness. The young man turned the screen off and walked into the shadows, a white lotus flower falling to the floor as he vanished into the darkness.

The moon lit the flower, and it's white petals started to look even more white then they already were.

Lotus - a symbol of the Beginning of Everything. The beginning of a new world, the new order, the old life taken and new given.

The world was being reborn, the reneissance era was about to begin.

By the hands of the one who was never thought to become the Creator.

_~The End~_


End file.
